


I Want the World to See You Be With Me

by kelleigh (girlfromcarolina)



Series: The Adventures of Jenny Boy and Jay Rider [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Kissing, M/M, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:23:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlfromcarolina/pseuds/kelleigh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you seduce a man who seduces others for a living? Jared's been asking himself that question for months ever since he and Jensen became roommates. Jared knows he's got moves—being a former stripper has its benefits—but getting Jensen to see that they're perfect together is harder than Jared ever thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want the World to See You Be With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [dugindeep](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hotsauce/pseuds/dugindeep)'s birthday!

**I WANT THE WORLD TO SEE YOU BE WITH ME**  
Or, The Continuing Adventures of Jenny Boy and Jay Ryder.  
Jensen/Jared. R. 7500 words.

 

"Hold still, Jen. I don't want to get any in your eyes."

Jensen groans, his chin tilted up. "I would so kill you if you did."

"Don't want to ruin your pretty looks."

Beneath the tip of the liquid pencil eyeliner, Jensen's lashes flutter. Jared pulls the pencil back an inch so he won't poke his best friend in the eye.

Jared sighs. "What did I just say?"

"It tickles," Jensen tells him, wrinkling his nose and getting his hands smacked away when he tries to rub his face.

"You know you're perfectly capable of doing this yourself, right?" Jared asks, laying his fingers back on Jensen's face.

"My hands are tired," Jensen says, "and I might mess up the look. Darren was really specific about what he wanted tonight."

Jared glances down at the printed email on the bathroom counter detailing Jensen's _look_ for tonight's party. "Yeah, I saw."

"My makeup always looks better when you do it," Jensen teases, wiggling his fingers under Jared's ribs to make him squirm.

"Careful!" Jared has to pull his entire body out of Jensen's reach. "You'll end up looking like some lopsided goth wanna-be instead of a sophisticated glam rocker."

Jensen scoffs. "Glam rocker. How cliched is that?"

Jared doesn't answer him, lips pursed as he tries to concentrate on drawing fluid lines around Jensen's eyes, but he's happy to hear Jensen say that. He's not too fond of Jensen's newest regular client—Darren Soles—but he knows to keep his mouth shut. They might share everything else, up to and including Jensen's expensive organic shampoo and conditioner, but Jensen's clients are none of Jared's business. Jay Ryder is no longer a part of that world.

"What are you doing tonight?" Jensen asks while Jared's picking out which smoky shadow to use.

"I have a ton of reading to do. Finals are gonna kick my ass if I don't."

"All you do is read. You should go out." Jensen lifts his face into the light once more, ready for the soft touch of the brush.

"Yeah? Where would I go?"

The charcoal shadow goes on like silk under Jensen's brows. Jared knows every inch—literally—of Jensen's drop-dead gorgeous appearance, but he loves the fine details only he gets to see up close. Like the laugh lines fanning out from the corners of his green eyes, the uneven scatter of freckles over his nose and cheeks, and the swell of his lips. Jared loves them even more because Jensen's clients don't notice them under the makeup and the glitter he wears during performances. They get what they pay for, the illusion of perfection, when the reality Jared gets to see is so much better.

"Go to a club or something, just to get out of the house," Jensen tells him. "I know you've got moves, baby," he adds lightly, "so why not let loose?"

"I'll wait 'til you can come with me."

"Suit yourself."

Okay, so Jared doesn't _get_ Jensen entirely. They've been living together for almost eight months as best friends, settling into and becoming a part of each other's routines. It's not pillow-fights and bromance all the time—Jared and Jensen snip and get pissed off just like any other pair of adults sharing a condo would—but life's been a hell of a lot better for Jared since he met Jensen, and their fights, when they do have them, end with an apology and plenty of make-up snuggling on the couch while watching Law  & Order marathons.

"Alright, tell me what you think?"

Jared steps away and Jensen blinks, standing up from the stool and turning to face the bathroom mirror.

"How'd you make me look so hot?"

"A lot of hard work," Jared mocks. "I had to cover up your real face."

Jensen's smile puts the vanity lights to shame. "I told you, you're good at this."

It's disconcerting and slightly awkward how Jared is turned on by the reflection he and Jensen create in the wide, framed mirror. The span of Jared's shoulders is greater and he's taller, but Jensen's body fits so perfectly in from of him as if they're pieces cut out to match each other. In an entire world of puzzle pieces, Jared and Jensen are the two meant to join together.

Getting turned on could also have something to do with Jensen being shirtless, his bankable upper body swaying like a red flag to Jared's inner animal.

"Gonna have a crazy show tonight," Jensen says, rolling his hips to a silent beat, reaching back to taunt Jared into dancing with him. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"I've gotta read." Jared nearly chokes on the words. Nothing unusual about the two of them dancing together—they've gotten paid to do far less—but this seems more intimate, just the two of them and their reflections. Jensen looks ready for sin and Jared's waiting to absolve him of it.

And damn, Jared needs to stop, back away, and quit reading erotica when he's bored of college assignments and sick of jerking off to porn.

"What are you gonna wear?"

Jensen runs his fingers through his hair, tousling the softly gelled sweep. "My new leather pants, definitely."

Jared feels like he's got cotton balls shoved in his cheeks; his entire mouth goes dry. Jensen had modeled those pants for him three days ago when they were brand new—Jared had practically dented the throw pillows on the couch with the hard-on he tried to cover up. Jensen had taken his boner as a _massive_ compliment.

"I haven't picked a shirt to start out in, but I'll bring a few with me and I'll see what Darren likes."

"He lets you change at the house?"

"Yeah."

Jensen answers as if it doesn't mean a thing, and to him it probably doesn't. But Jared's clenching his teeth and breathing through his nose.

"He throws a lot of extravagant parties," Jared comments, arranging Jensen's eye makeup back in the top drawer, putting everything in its proper place. God knows, Jensen might go ballistic if his man-scara isn't right where it's supposed to be.

"Well, Darren's the hottest new music producer on the scene," Jensen says, disappearing into the massive walk-in closet off the bathroom. "I guess he has a lot of clients to wine and dine..."

Jared mutters, "And impress with half-naked gay dancers?"

Jensen pops his head out. "I heard that."

He leans back out of sight again. Jared turns back to his reflection and shakes his head at the pale, shaggy-haired man staring back. He hasn't gone tanning since the beginning of fall; next to Jensen's bronzed godliness, Jared's a lily-white housemaid.

"If you're jealous, you could just come with me," Jensen's saying, emerging from his wardrobe with a simple black button down over his jeans, a thin stack of showier shirts in his hand. 

"Jealous?" Jared scoffs. "What?"

Jensen looks at him. "Yeah, I told you that you could come perform with me. Darren wouldn't mind another dancer. He can definitely afford to pay you well and I know you're dying for some of that fancy, catered food."

"Oh yeah," Jared sighs. "Nah, thanks though. It'll just be me, some of that leftover stir-fry, and systemic physiology."

"You make science sound sexy," Jensen says, adding a few little cosmetic items to his bag. He looks at the clock on the bathroom radio and curses. "Shit, I'm running late. Good luck kiss?"

"I wouldn't let you leave without it." 

Jared kisses Jensen's cheek the way he always does before Jensen leaves for a performance. Tradition, comfort, actual luck—Jared's not sure what it's really for but he's always given it. Once or twice during his first months living here, Jared thought about stopping the kisses altogether. He kissed Jensen for every little thing or for nothing at all, smothering the man with his usual affection until he realized they were messing with his head. But it was fruitless; Jared's couldn't resist Jensen's face, his lips, or his goofy smile whenever Jared pulled away after a kiss.

Jensen makes a low, happy noise. "Thanks. I'll see you when I get home, okay?"

With that, he's out of the bathroom. Jared hears the front door shut a minute later.

@@@

The stir-fry goes down easier with a beer. One drink's not going to derail Jared's studying, but his second makes the words blurry on their page so he gives up for a little while and tries to relax.

He doesn't intend to think about Jensen, but his roommate _slash_ best friend _slash_ casual cuddling partner is a huge part of Jared's life. Jensen's the one who convinced Jared to stop stripping altogether. To help with bills and groceries, and to get a kick-ass letter of recommendation to use in his grad school application, Jared had started working part-time hours at a veterinary hospital after Fall Break.

These days, when Jared works, he comes home smelling like wet dog and antiseptic instead of sex and money. Mostly, he hasn't minded the switch—going from being Jay Ryder to mild-mannered veterinary studies senior Jared Padalecki had its advantages—but he misses performing with Jensen. It's crazy to want to go back to getting naked for complete strangers, using his body for income, and Jared's life is finally starting to come together. He's got grad school coming up here in the fall, a great place to live, and a best friend who supports him.

If he could make Jensen fall in love with him, Jared's life might actually be perfect.

But it's crazy. Jared doesn't possess the same kind of sex appeal now as he did when he was Jay Rider, erotic boy-toy. He's got serious graduation jitters, books piled up on their coffee table, and a crappy diet when Jensen's not around to be disapproving. 

Jared's not exactly a catch, and even if he could channel Jay Ryder for one last win-your-heart performance, how in the hell is Jared supposed to seduce a guy who seduces people for a living?

The effect of two light beers wear off pretty quickly and Jared cracks another textbook. His last finals as an undergrad are coming up in a few weeks and he's got two papers to finish between now and then. A night off just isn't in the cards.

@@@

"Hey..."

Jensen's soft voice brings Jared out of his doze.

"Jared, come on. Go to bed."

"Hmm?" Jared's neck protests as soon as he opens his eyes and looks up.

"You fell asleep on the couch again," Jensen says, "you've gotta get up."

Jared lets Jensen manhandle his sleepy, uncoordinated body up and off the couch, walking with him to Jared's bedroom.

He yawns. "How was the party?"

"Typical," Jensen tells him. "Did you get a lot of reading done?"

Jared sits on his bed and kicks his flip-flops into the corner. "I guess. I polished off that stir-fry. It kinda sucked."

He watches Jensen open his dresser drawer and pull out a pair of sleep pants; with a smile, Jared notices that they're his favorite pair—thin, soft, and long enough to tuck over his toes.

"Good thing I brought you a big bag of catered deliciousness."

"Seriously?" Jared falls back on the sheets. "You're awesome. If I could get up right now, I'd check and see what you got me."

"Then you'd fall asleep in the middle of eating and choke on a stuffed mushroom."

"There are mushrooms?" He tries to roll off the bed but Jensen's there to stop him from face-planting on the floor.

"Save them for tomorrow," Jensen says.

"Mmmkay."

Jensen drops Jared's pjs on the bed and walks out of the room. By the time Jared changes out of his clothes—without once getting off the bed—and slips under the covers, Jensen's back. He's wearing his glasses, a pair of wire-rimmed Dolce's, and the shorts and tee he usually sleeps in. Jensen crawls onto the empty side of the bed with the Kindle Jared bought him last Christmas.

"You mind?"

Jared curls around his pillow. Jensen always asks even though he's already flicked on the bedside light.

"Nope. What'cha reading?"

" _A Game of Thrones_ , but I'm almost done," Jensen says. "Want to read it when I'm finished?"

"The last thing I want to do during finals is read more."

Jensen grabs Jared's other pillow and fluffs it up, stuffing it behind his lower back. His glasses catch the dim light and Jared watches his best friend through half-open eyes for a few minutes.

Jensen's rumpled, the complete opposite of how he'd looked when he left the condo for his performance. Makeup gone, hair soft and finger-ruffled—he's a gentler kind of gorgeous that affects Jared more than the sexed-up, coated-in-lust version of Jensen.

This is one of their so-called rituals, both of them crashing on Jared's bed after Jensen's worked a show. Jensen always needs time to wind down and relax, and he doesn't want to be alone. Sometimes Jared stays awake and they talk until Jensen leaves for his own room, but when it's late like this, Jared's out quickly and Jensen reads for an hour or so.

Jared falls asleep hoping Jensen will be there when he wakes up. At the very least, he'll be in Jared's dreams.

@@@

There's no handtowel on the rack when Jared reaches over to dry his hands.

"Shit." He'd forgotten to put the load of towels in the dryer this afternoon.

Wiping his hands on his pants, Jared looks up into the mirror. He's been studying his reflection a lot lately, random moments of self-contemplation.

Jared had worked on one of his papers all weekend. He'd finished but his eyes show the strain of too many hours behind his laptop screen. His eyeballs throb like they're too big for his skull and his headache is a low, constant reminder of how hard he's been working.

Jensen's using their home-gym; he's been on the treadmill for nearly an hour. Through the wall, Jared can hear the rhythmic _thump-thump_ of his stride.

His hips begin swaying to that beat, Jared watching himself in the mirror. Letting his hair fall across his forehead, he dips and writhes like he's back on a stage—something he hasn't done in months—working his body for the crowd. Jared remembers all the moves, gyrating his waist and arching his back, but something's off and it's not the fact that he's wearing old jeans and an _I <3 SURFER BOYS_ t-shirt.

Jared doesn't see sexy in the mirror anymore. He sees himself, and there's nothing wrong with that, but the extra spark—the charisma and passion Jensen used to tell Jared he possessed—is gone.

He nearly twists his knees together and falls over when Jensen pops his head into the bathroom and smiles.

"Are you going dancing tonight?"

"Shit—no!" Jared says, righting himself. "No, I was just, um, practicing."

"Practicing what?"

Jensen pushes the door open all the way and cocks his hip against the frame. His hair's slicked up in sweaty spikes, a pink flush running down his neck and disappearing under his black, lycra work-out shirt.

"You know, if I ever wanted to perform again."

Wiping the back of his hand over his forehead, Jensen pulls a quixotic expression. "You been thinking about going back?"

"No. Well, a little," Jared says,

"If this is about money—"

"Oh, no." Jared brushes that off. "I mean, unless you need me to—"

"No, we're totally fine," Jensen says quickly. "So, what then?"

"Hmm?"

Jensen sighs. "Performing. Why do you want to go back? Are you bored?"

"Hell no." Jared laughs. "Dude, even when finals are over, I'm still gonna be at the vet full time." He sees Jensen's intent on getting an answer, so he says, "I guess I've just been feeling kind of crappy lately."

"Like sick?"

"Just blah," he explains. "Like I'm not exciting anymore or something. I'm stuck in a rut."

"As soon as you graduate, I think you'll feel a lot better," Jensen offers. "You're stressed, that's all."

"Yeah," Jared admits. "I don't know."

"I do." Jensen winks and walks into the bathroom to stand behind Jared. "You've been working too hard lately and you need to take a break tonight."

"I can't."

Framing Jared's hips with his hands, Jensen begins rocking from side to side. 

Since when did dancing in front of mirrors become a thing for them?

"Let me help you de-stress," Jensen says, and Jared's got to be imagining the undercurrent of seduction in his voice. His hands move up, digging into sore muscles on either side of Jared's spine and massaging his shoulders. "I'll go shower and then we can order dinner—"

"Vinetto's?" Jared's appetite wakes up, just about the only part of his body that's not already perky from Jensen's closeness.

"Whatever you want. Then we'll watch movies. Okay?"

Jared sighs dramatically. "Do I have a choice?"

"Nope." Jensen grins and backs off. At the bathroom door he turns and adds, "But Jared, if you ever want to get back on the stage with me, I'm all for it."

Jared ducks his head at the sincerity.

Jensen laughs. "Because you and me? We're epic together."

@@@

Amidst the chaos of finals, commencement events, and longer hours at the vet hospital, Jared forgets all about a potential return to the world of exotic dancing.

If not for Jensen, Jared wouldn't have survived the two weeks leading up to graduation. Jensen keeps him focused most of the time—not to mention making sure Jared doesn't die in a pile of dirty clothes, potato chip bags, and anatomy notes—but he's also willing to come up with plenty of distractions when Jared's brain cells throw in the towel and demand a break.

Jared's parents fly into town for his graduation ceremony and it's only the second time they've been in California. His mom and dad scoop Jensen up right away, dragging him along to every lunch and celebratory dinner like he's been a part of the Padalecki family for years.

Jared loves it, smitten with the way Jensen falls into the attention and becomes a part of such a momentous occasion. The day Jared crosses the stage with his degree and shakes the dean's hand, knowing that the most important people in his life are out in the crowd cheering until their hands hurt, is one of the best days of his life.

After nearly a week of excitement, Jared's life gets back to normal. Now a full-time employee at the veterinary hospital, Jared spends less time at the condo but the academic pressure is gone. He can enjoy just being at home without worrying about the next test or paper. Jensen's schedule doesn't change; two or three nights a week he's out and Jared ends up making dinner for himself, catching up on entire seasons of _Community_ and _Mad Men_ that Jensen had saved on his DVR.

Thanks to a favor from another tech, Jared's able to switch his shifts around to create a three-day weekend at the beginning of June. Back when Jared was up to his eyeballs in physiology and lab practicals, Jensen had promised him that they'd take a long weekend trip once things had calmed down, just the two of them. Last week, while they ate fresh chicken salad over greens and tomatoes, Jensen had mentioned the possibility of driving to Sedona and Jared can't wait to get out of California for a few days and have Jensen all to himself.

Jared's ready for things to change between them, eager to take their little domestic experiment one step further. He's through with thinking that it's never the right time, and he's pretty sure that if he asks Jensen for more, Jensen will give it.

Well, he's mostly pretty sure.

When Jensen gets home that night from Home Depot with new cabinet fixtures for the master bathroom, Jared's waiting at the dining room table with a spread of baked chicken and Mexican rice already laid out.

"Smells awesome," Jensen says once he drops his bags in the bathroom. His jeans are as thin as tissue paper at the knees—one good tug would shred the denim—and the logo of Jared's veterinary school is displayed in forest green on Jensen's gray t-shirt. "I'm not complaining, but wasn't it my turn to cook?"

"I swung by the grocery store after work and I figured you would still be out shopping." Jared starts spooning the spicy rice with colorful bits of peppers onto his plate as Jensen stabs a chicken breast. "I was gonna tell you that Cory switched shifts with me so I could take next Monday off for our trip."

Jensen stops chewing with a mouthful of food. He blinks and drops his eyes to his plate.

"What? Do you not want to go anymore?" Jared watches Jensen swallow and shake his head. "It's okay if you don't, I just thought—"

"No, that's not it. I booked a show for Saturday night."

"I thought you were free for the whole week," Jared says, creating little mountains of rice with his fork. "This trip was your idea."

"Yeah, I know. But Darren called me this morning and wanted to put together something last-minute."

"Darren, huh?"

"Jared..."

Eating spicy food suddenly seems like a horrible idea; Jared's stomach rolls unpleasantly.

"It's fine." He covers the lie with a wave of his hand.

"Clearly it's not."

Jared sighs. "Why would you agree to perform after you told me we'd take a vacation? You've never bailed on me before. Is this because Darren's the one who's hiring you?"

"That's not the reason at all," Jensen counters. "I just—"

"Were you thinking that I didn't want to go?" Jared's pulling excuses out of thin air because he can't fathom Jensen's sudden hesitancy. "Or that I wouldn't be able to get the time off?"

"None of that."

"So, it is because of Darren."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Jensen's tone is sharper than the knives on the table. "Darren needed someone at the last minute—"

"And you couldn't say no?"

Jensen shrugs. "I did say no." Jared's forehead broadcasts his confusion and Jensen adds, "At first, you know? But then he said he'd pay me twice my usual rate and it's a big party, so I could book a few other engagements because of it."

"You're not exactly strapped for cash, Jensen. You don't need to take jobs like they're charity."

Jensen starts pushing his food around the plate. "Yeah, but it was a _lot_ of money, and I know your first payment for grad school is due in, like, a month or something."

"Dude..." Jared trails off to give his brain a second to catch up. "Why do you care about my tuition payments?"

Their eyes meet for a moment, Jensen's stare intense like he's trying to figure out what's behind the curtain. 

Yeah, Jared knows that vet school's going to cost a bundle and it'll take full-time employment, a loan, and one of his kidneys to cover it, but he'll do the best he can. He's talked to Jensen about tuition once or twice, lamenting the cost of his dream job, but Jared's perfectly willing to bear the financial burden for the next decade or however long it's going to take.

"You're right," Jensen says, "I don't need the money, but you will. I thought the plan could be that I'd make as much money as I can while you're in school and I'll be able to support you. I don't want you to have to go back to stripping or performing with me—the hours alone aren't going to work with all your classes—and this way your tuition would be covered."

"I could get a loan," Jared says, but his voice barely makes it across the table. He's utterly at a loss.

"I know." Jensen sags in the dining room chair, fiddling with the paper napkin on his thigh. "Should I cancel?"

It's on the tip of Jared's tongue to say _yes!_ He tries to force the word out between his clenched teeth but he can't. Jensen's expression is like duct-tape over Jared's mouth—the earnest shine in his eyes and the half-pout that draws his lips together.

"No," Jared says. "No, it's okay. We can just—"

"I'll make it up to you, man. Trust me." 

Jensen pats his thighs as if the discussion's come to a satisfactory ending but Jared's still trying to find the corner pieces of this puzzle.

Picking up his plate—everything on it only half finished—Jensen stands.

"I'm gonna work out," he says. "Do some resistance work since my arms are feeling a little flabby."

Jared wants to laugh; nothing on Jensen is _flabby_. 

The atmosphere is all wrong in the dining room. Jensen never works out right after eating—something about it not being the most effective time to burn calories or whatever—but he disappears into the kitchen, plate and silverware clattering as Jensen sets them in the sink. He walks back through the dining room a minute later and pats Jared on the shoulder.

"Good dinner, man."

Jared doesn't get a chance to say anything before he's gone.

@@@

By Saturday afternoon, Jared's got a plan.

It's not a great plan. Hell, Jared doesn't even think it's a _good_ plan, but it's the one he's sticking with.

His outfit's going to be a bit of a problem. Jensen's been keeping quiet about his performance at Darren's tonight, but Jared knows that he's using his Pharaoh routine; it's one of Jenny Boy's classics. The costume he owns is seriously unreal, hand-tailored to Jensen's body while covering very little of it. As soon as Jared had seen the gold makeup and heavy black eye-liner set out on Jensen's bathroom counter, and the lace up sandals sitting in the laundry room, the gig was up.

Jared has performed this routine with Jensen twice before. His own costume is less elaborate, none of the jewels or adornments—he's merely one of the Pharaoh's acolytes set to worship at his feet. The issue is that with all of the time Jared had spent on school and finals, his workout routine had been a little neglected. Well, more like non-existent. It's a bit of a squeeze to get into the thin, gold pants, that extra inch of padding around his waist is unforgiving in an outfit like this. But he makes it work, tying up his sandals and brushing the fine, gold body powder all over his chest before he slips into the sleeveless white tunic.

Fully dressed, Jared walks into the bathroom where Jensen's doing his makeup, his smoky eyes meeting Jensen's kohl-sharpened ones in the mirror.

"What the hell?" Jensen turns, his cheekbones highlighted with a subtle shimmer of gold. "Jared?"

"I thought I'd go with you tonight," Jared says, trying not to fidget with his tunic.

"We talked about this. You don't have to—"

"I know"—Jared cuts in—"but I want to. Come on, it'll be fun. You said it yourself, Jensen. We're epic together." He narrows his eyes and doesn't let Jensen turn away. "Isn't that what Darren wants? A good _performance_?"

"You're serious."

"You think I'd squeeze myself into these pants if I wasn't?"

Jensen's lips quirk as he checks Jared out from the crown of his head, hair tamed back behind his ears, to the tips of his bare toes. "You look good."

His face warms, but Jared just smiles and hopes the makeup covers his blush. "That's the point. I've got to look damn good if I'm gonna show up the famous Jenny Boy on stage tonight."

"Yeah"—Jensen full-on smirks—"we'll see about that." His expression eases up a bit and he turns back to the mirror. "Mind helping me out since you're here?"

When it means getting his hands on Jensen, Jared can't nod fast enough.

@@@

For something pulled together at the last minute, Darren's party is insane. A few dozen well-dressed men, along with several modelesque women, are gathered in Soles' impressive backyard grotto. Narrow flutes of champagne bubble and sparkle along with the delicate lights strung between manicured fruit trees. The party reeks of wealth and influence—each appetizer probably costs more than Jared's weekly food budget.

"How'd he pull this together so quickly?" Jared asks as he follows Jensen through the backyard and into the house. It's obvious that Jensen knows his way around the property, Jared notices with a hidden scowl.

"Lots of people on speed-dial, ready to kiss-ass," Jensen says. "Money can buy you a lot of friends."

They drop their bags in a well lit parlor off of the massive gourmet kitchen where caterers and waiters circle around silver trays of hors d'oeuvres and various drinks. Jensen checks Jared's outfit, the fit of his tunic, and his makeup, and Jared does the same for him, fixing little details before their show.

At five minutes 'til ten, Darren Soles walks into the room. Jared's seen paparazzi photos of the young music producer—features flattered in every kind of light—but there's something jarring about meeting him in person. Especially when Jared kind of hates the guy already.

"Jensen! Sorry I couldn't come say hi before, I was"—Soles stops and flashes his perfectly white teeth in Jared's direction—"I didn't know you were bringing someone with you."

"Darren, this is Jay Ryder." Jensen smiles. Jared's a little thrown by his stage name; he hasn't heard it in a while. "He's retired, but lucky for you he's agreed to take the stage with me tonight for a special show."

"Jay." Soles extends his hand. "I've heard so much about you. This will be a wonderful surprise for my guests."

"And don't worry, he'll just split my rate—"

"Nonsense," Soles says with put upon charm. His grin is a weapon aimed only at Jensen. "If he's as good as you say he is, then it'll be well worth the extra cost, I'm sure." Like Jared's not even in the room, Soles sidles up to Jensen, close enough for gold powder to rub off on the fabric of his designer shirt. "Do you have a minute?"

Jensen nods and follows, turning his head and smiling Jared's way. They stop and turn to one another beyond the door—just out of earshot—and Jared watched Soles flirt with Jensen. There's no other word for the way he presses himself into Jensen's space, lips curving around words that Jared's glad he can't hear.

Jared shakes off his annoyance and doesn't let the fact that he was right about Darren Soles and his obvious attraction to Jensen change his course. He's jealous, but he takes that burn and holds onto it. Channels the fire into something he can use during the performance, because no matter how close Soles gets to Jensen, Jared will always be one step closer.

@@@

Their stage is the far end of the grotto, branches of ornamental red maples curving together in a canopy over the flat stone. No spotlight, but the garden lights find the shimmer on Jensen's skin and make him glow.

Off to the side, Jared watches Jensen dance his solo routine. Jensen is heart-stopping on a normal day, but when he performs he's able to seduce everyone in the room, bend their gazes in his direction. Soles' guests sit on teak benches arranged in a half-circle around Jensen. In the small crowd, Jared sees white-knuckled fingers clenched around knees, chests heaving, and glazed eyes all around.

There's no one better in the world of exotic dancing than _Jenny Boy_. He's an idol.

Jared knows every single one of Jensen's signature moves and has learned the best ways to dance with him—curve around his body—in order to make their performances look effortless. Not all of that knowledge came from dancing with him. Living together, they each understand the other's body, their space. They can move just as easily around one another in Jensen's kitchen as they can on a stage.

Jensen reclines on a stone bench set into the grotto's wall. That's Jared's cue.

He saunters out, wrists bound together with loose, gold rope. Jensen beckons with a twist of his finger and Jared comes to stand submissively between his thighs, eyes averted from his king. Cool fingers reach to touch Jared's hands, skim along the skin until Jensen can tug on the soft rope. Jared meets his commanding gaze, absorbed in the scene they're setting but always conscious of what he's really here to accomplish tonight.

He needs to blow Jensen's mind.

Jensen lets his wrists drop. This show has no script, but Jensen leans forward and whispers, "Dance for me." His words are too low for their audience and Jared's suddenly so turned on, he shivers involuntarily; Jensen knows exactly what his voice can do to Jared.

It's too easy to get lost in everything that's between them, and when he turns to face Soles' guests, Jared has to remember that they're being watched. Getting hard's not a problem, obviously, but performing is Jensen's life and Jared won't ruin that by just taking what he wants. Instead, he's going to give Jensen and their rapt audience a show no one's going to forget.

He dances for Jensen, going beyond their choreographed moves and turning every step into seduction. Jared might look like a fool—practicing in front of the mirror isn't the same as stripping regularly—or he might be nailing his performance; he's not sure. But each time he circles back to face Jensen as a pleasure slave fulfilling his master's every naughty wish, he notices something deeper in his best friend's expression.

Jared drops his voice low. "Do I give you pleasure?"

He watches Jensen's lip curl as he restrains his smirk.

"You have no idea," Jensen says, running his hands possessively down Jared's naked torso. The gold rope and his tunic are gone, ripped away when the Pharaoh became impatient with his slave. 

The tease doesn't stop there. Jensen reels Jared closer, makes him straddle his thighs and grind down. Jared reacts by dropping his jaw, letting the sounds pour out so Jensen knows the effect he's having. He doesn't need to fake it; Jensen is all he wants. 

Jensen's hands cup Jared's ass and push his pants down to reveal the tight briefs underneath. There are cheers from the audience, shouts to _take it all off_ , but Jared knows Jensen won't. Jensen can put on a show without getting naked, years of practice honing his skills.

He's pushed toward the audience when Jensen stands up, hands proprietary on Jared's body, spinning him and putting him on full display. Jared's favorite part of the act comes after Jensen's got the group primed, visually teased within an inch of their sanity. That's when the slave is permitted to disrobe his master, revealing all of that golden skin. 

Jared's mouth waters as he slides the hook-front tunic from Jensen's shoulders. He's been walking through the desert without water for far too long and the sight of Jensen is an oasis he can't resist.

Yeah... Way too many romance novels, Jared admits to himself. As soon as he has Jensen, he promises to give those up for good.

Wearing next to nothing, Jared and Jensen circle one another. Touches linger and eyes stray to places they shouldn't. Jared goes to his knees for Jensen, rubs his cheek on the warm skin of Jensen's upper thigh, and exhales over the impressive line of Jensen's restrained cock. God, he _wants_.

Their music is coming to an end and Jared's running out of time. He practically crawls up Jensen's body, tasting skin here and there, and presses their chests together. Jensen's eyes are bright and laser-focused, desire in all the tones of green Jared's able to pick out.

The feelings inside Jared are like helium filling a balloon—they're running out of space and pretty soon, Jared's going to pop. With nowhere else for his emotions to go, Jared falls into Jensen's arms and lays his lips over Jensen's. As if Jensen knew the kiss was coming, he bends right into it, throwing his arms around Jared's back to hold him. The audience's stunned applause fades as Jared becomes deaf to all sights and sounds that aren't coming from Jensen.

Every kiss they've ever shared was special—friendly pecks and good luck wishes, longer lip-locks and comfort kisses—but this one is a gateway to more. Jared tests the give of Jensen's full lips, delving inside as the music finally stops. He only gets a hint of how good it's going to be before Jensen leans away.

It's Darren Soles who breaks them apart, insinuating himself at Jensen's side. Jared sees red, but Jensen notices his chest heaving and quickly blocks Jared from stepping forward and causing a scene.

"You two are really something together," Soles says. His dark eyes flick between Jared and Jensen as if he's judging the space between their bodies. "I definitely got my money's worth."

"We always work well together," Jensen replies. 

Jensen picks up their costumes and hands Jared his tunic. Jared throws it on when he notices that more than a few of Soles' guests are stuck in their seats, staring. Getting redressed with an audience is somehow more awkward than undressing in front of one, the moment of allure broken.

"You're welcome to stay and enjoy the rest of the party," Soles offers. "You too, Mr. Ryder."

Jared tries his damnedest to be polite. "That's nice of you, but—"

"Excuse me, Darren," Jensen cuts in, "but I really need to talk to my partner alone. Do you mind if we...?"

It's impossible to miss the scowl that twists Darren Soles' lips, but he apparently doesn't have it in him to deny Jensen. Jared knows how that feels.

"Whatever you need, Jensen."

Without saying thank you, Jensen grabs Jared's wrist and hauls him out of the grotto. Guests stop to praise their performance but neither of them have the patience for small talk. It's rare that Jensen ignores his fans like this—all of them potential clients—but Jared follows obediently, eager to see where they'll end up.

Utilizing his knowledge of Soles' house, Jensen leads them to one of the palatial bathrooms at the back of the ground floor. Snapping the lock into place, Jensen turns heated eyes on Jared.

"That was so unprofessional." Jensen hisses through his teeth, crowding Jared up against the bathroom wall.

Jared's body doesn't miss a beat. He's nearly hard from their show but held like this, his cock fills out in seconds. He's able to read the hunger in Jensen's expression and knows that it's meant for him. But, Jared needs to be sure.

He licks his lips and taunts Jensen. 

"What was unprofessional?"

"You know perfectly well. That kiss—"

"Do you care?"

"Not at all," Jensen manages to say before his mouth is sliding over Jared's, tongue finally forcing his lips to give way. Everything about this kiss is more than the one in the grotto; it's deeper, wetter, and a thousand times more intimate with no one watching.

"Wait—" Jared curses his subconscious even as he's pushing Jensen away. He recognizes the needling fear that in some way, somehow, he's reading this wrong. "You and me...you want this?"

"I am so goddamn crazy for you," Jensen says, holding Jared's face in his palms. "Didn't you know that?"

Jared shakes his head. "I hoped, but we've lived together for months, you know? I kind of figured that I wasn't the kind of guy you wanted."

"Alright, you are nuts." Jensen rubs his thumbs over Jared's cheeks. "I could never fall for anyone else, not since I met you."

"So we're..."

"Yeah," Jensen says, closing the distance once more. "We are."

Jared doesn't need to hear anything after that. He's aching for friction, hips already pumping forward against Jensen's. The seduction is behind them and there's no hesitation in the way they touch one another. 

Jared loves being this close to Jensen. It's different than curling together on Jared's bed at night, more intense than dancing with him. He sees every nuance of emotion on Jensen's face and focuses his attention there for a moment, not wanting to miss a single breath.

Their costumes don't put up a fight against their fingers, thin fabric ripped and pushed away until Jared's hand is around Jensen's cock, all that heat and strength wrapped up in his palm. His lips fall to Jensen's shoulder, sucking and licking until he's got the taste memorized. Jensen's stroking Jared off at the same time, working up to a rhythm that nearly short-circuits Jared's senses.

Jared is hardly giving Jensen the handjob of the century—and right now, Jensen's hand is moving a little too quickly and Jared's got no chance of lasting—but it doesn't matter. His brain is blissed out, sending all kinds of signals down his spine that make his skin flush and his toes curl. 

He bucks into Jensen's hold, coming in mere minutes. Jensen's not far behind, swaying forward and letting Jared take his weight, the wall supporting both of them. Mouths close together, they share the same air until Jared gets his breathing under control.

Finally, when his muscles feel a little more solid than Jello, Jared brings his lips up to Jensen's ear.

"Can we get a dog?"

Jensen's breath comes out hard, punctuated with a dip of his shoulders. "You purposefully waited until I don't have two brain cells to rub together to ask me that, didn't you?"

"Maybe"—Jared traps him against the wall—"but I can find other things to rub together if it'll help you think."

Jensen groans and shoves him away, but Jared doesn't go very far. After pulling together what's left of their costumes, they stand close together at the sink, washing their hands in cold water and flinging drops at one another before Jensen grabs a handtowel from a basket on the counter.

No one is in the hallway when they sneak out of the bathroom. Their bags are still in the parlor and they change out of their disheveled costumes while party music drifts in through the open window. Jared glances over at Jensen who's a strange combination of casual—a t-shirt and jeans replacing the Pharaoh's gold and gauzy extravagance—and sensual with his makeup casting his eyes in shadow.

Jared is still watching when Jensen pulls a water bottle out of his bag and drains half of it, smile coming naturally.

"Can we get out of here?" Jared asks.

Jensen's already throwing his bag over his shoulder. "I can't think of a single reason why we'd stay."

@@@

"Things are gonna change, huh?"

Jensen sets two glasses of water on the coffee table and picks up the DVR remote. He doesn't respond to Jared's question until he's settled on the couch again, ready to continue their _Castle_ marathon.

"How so?"

"I mean, with you and I," Jared explains. "If we're together."

Jensen shrugs. "Actually, it sort of feels like we've been together for months, just without some of the fun extras."

"Like sex?"

"Mmm," Jensen hums, dipping forward to kiss Jared. "Definitely sex. And more making out."

"Can I move into your bedroom?"

"Probably a good idea," Jensen says between kisses. "Want to move your stuff into my bathroom, too?"

Jared turns away to laugh. "Dude, I would never want to share a bathroom with you. There's no room for me or my stuff in yours."

It looks as if Jensen's going to argue, but then he shrugs. "You're right. Anything else we need to discuss?"

Jared feigns heavy thought. When he takes too long to answer, Jensen leans over and kisses the expression right off his face.

They never start the next episode, lips unwilling to part now that they know what they'd be missing. Jared's hands wander up and down Jensen's back over his clothes. There's something about feeling his lines and muscles this way; his touch doesn't demand, it merely learns.

Over the last few hours, Jared feels as if two realities have blended seamlessly. There's comfort in the routine he and Jensen have always shared—like lying together on the couch long after midnight—but there's a new layer of anticipation over even the simplest moments. It makes familiar thing seem exciting, including TV marathons. Jared can look over, notice the flush high on Jensen's cheeks, and know Jensen's thinking about him. And, if he wanted to, Jared could yank Jensen up off the couch and corral him into the bedroom for a private show.

He could, but making out with Jensen right now, without a care in the world, is a perfect moment on its own. It's so _them_ , and Jared wouldn't have it any other way. If they had to change for one another, the love they've admitted might not mean the same thing. 

Whatever comes next for them is going to be amazing, because in Jared's own little romance, that's just the way things are supposed to be.

 

FIN.


End file.
